


A Mother's Love

by FeelTheCold



Category: American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:57:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelTheCold/pseuds/FeelTheCold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Cordelia has been blinded by an unknown enemy, Fiona is striving to rebuild the trust that has been lost in their relationship. - I'm really not good at writing summaries, but give it a shot, anyways. Rated M for the suggestion of violence and possible later chapters. Reviews are always appreciated, and desired. Very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

**Author's note: This story is set in season 3 of AHS: Coven, particularly after 'The Axeman Cometh'. I have no affiliation with the show or its creators, nor do I claim any of the characters, locations, etc. listed below. Reviews are always appreciated.**

**~oOoOoOo~**

Her screams could be heard from the common room downstairs, bellowing out and reverberating within the academy's ancient walls. This had been Cordelia's third outburst in just two days, though it was understandable. Sometimes, Delphine would come to check on her. Other times, it was Fiona-but she was intelligent enough to recognize that, had she just grazed her own fingers against her daughter's flesh, something potentially far more menacing could surface from the brief connection; something that Fiona just couldn't afford at this moment. Burying a lifetime of secrets certainly took a toll on Fiona's wellbeing, both mentally and physically, and she would be damned if all of those wrinkles clustering up on a forehead that had already been so full of them went to waste. Cordelia was bound to learn of Myrtle's not so tragic death, in Fiona's perspective, anyhow. That was inevitable. Now, Fiona was faced with a greater challenge-something that she wasn't entirely sure she could handle on her own, but she was no underdog, nor would she be seen as one in the eyes of all those who looked down upon her from their balconies. Not only were Fiona's days numbered, and the pressing matter of eliminating the next Supreme in line for the throne becoming more urgent with each day, but she now had to be conscientious of every move she made around her own daughter.

Traditionally, mothers and daughters were supposed to be the best of friends, although this was rarely the case. Lord knew Fiona and Cordelia were not meant to stay in the same room with one another for more than five minutes-but her own daughter-someone that she should have been able to trust with her indiscretions.

Fiona knew she was to blame for the strain that had accumulated in her relationship with her daughter. When Cordelia was just a girl, just beginning to blossom, a time when she needed her mother the most, she was passed off into the care of her mother's affirmed enemy-Myrtle Snow. Cordelia had sworn left and right, refusing to budge even the slightest inch, that Fiona abandoned her because she didn't love her, because she never wanted to become a mother, because she was more interested in staying out all evening long, bringing strange men into their home. None of this was true, though.

In her day, Fiona had been quite a vixen. This was true, even now, in her early sixties. Fiona had enjoyed the company of several partners during her lifetime, but she was not a whore-not at all. She cared for her daughter, but she knew she'd never be adept to raise the girl on her own. Fiona would have laid down her own life for Cordelia, but she had difficulty expressing her emotions... something that Cordelia longed for, something that Fiona just couldn't provide. In the eyes of the Supreme witch, emotions were a witch's greatest weakness-their Achilles' heel. Emotions could make or break a person, and that just wasn't a chance Fiona was willing to take.

Exhaling an exhausted sigh, Fiona rose from her bed, sheathing herself with her black lace evening garment, stepped out of her luxurious room and padded barefoot down the hallway, to Cordelia's bedroom that she shared with Hank-though Fiona expected that wouldn't be the case for much longer. She hated to invade her daughter's privacy like this, just barging in without bothering to knock, but Cordelia had already resisted her help once today, and Fiona was not in the mood to take no for an answer. Her daughter needed her help. That's what she had told her doctor earlier this week whilst receiving chemotherapy to eliminate her cancer, but saying something was quite a bit different than actually following through with it and doing it. Not only did she need to gain Cordelia's broken trust, but she also needed to fulfill her duty as a mother-to comfort her child, to sit with her, thread her fingers through the beautiful blonde tresses that spiraled down from her scalp, and to listen and coo reassuring words as she heaved, sobs racking through her body.

Fiona's thoughts alone were enough to cause tears to sting her eyes, but it didn't matter. Cordelia wouldn't have known the woman was crying unless she opened her mouth to speak, and if she did... Fiona knew she would fall apart. She knew it.

They say, when a person who once had sight goes blind, either by trauma or natural causes, their other senses become heightened-hearing, touch, smell... Fiona wasn't sure that this would be the case for her daughter. She was a fighter, stubborn as hell, but she was also pissed off. Extremely. And she had a damn good reason to be upset. Hell, Fiona was pissed for her, if not more. That was her baby.

Whoever blinded Cordelia in that restroom needed her to see the chaos that was unfolding before her, but not with her eyes. In a way, she was very ignorant, very naive when it came to the individuals who encompassed her. Whoever had thrown that acid needed her to realize what was happening, and it was achieved in the most horrendous of instances.

Regardless of what happened, Cordelia needed Fiona, whether she knew it or not. The mystery of said person could wait until tomorrow. For now, it was time for Fiona to salvage the one alliance she had left, and to do something she had never done before-mother her child.

**~oOoOoOo~**

Well, this was my first attempt at writing an American Horror Story: Coven fanfic. Please let me know what you think about it, what I have to improve on, and if I should continue with it. Much love! ~ A


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I apologize for not having updated this story in a while. I've just been busy with the holidays and rushing around to get all my Christmas shopping done and over with! Life is hectic, but bear with me, because I love this story and want to do the characters justice! I own none of the characters, nor the locations mentioned. I only wish I did.**

**~oOoOoOo~**

Cordelia sat at the edge of her mattress, a grimace plastered upon her face. The pain medication that she had received from the hospital did little to ease the pain of her burns, but it could do little to alleviate her emotional turmoil. Each morning, her mother had waltzed in Cordelia's bedroom to help her up and to get her in the shower and get dressed. And each morning, Cordelia was reminded of the strain that existed in her relationship with Fiona.

Fiona was trying. Cordelia could see that... a poor choice of words... but nonetheless. She knew that Fiona was trying to make up for the times that she had been absent in Cordelia's life, but it wasn't as easy as it sounded.

After being away from her mother for so long, only seeing her when she occasionally popped back in to see the progress that was being made in the Academy, Cordelia had been accustomed to thinking that she didn't have a mother. The only mother figure in her life had been Myrtle, and she too had been ripped out of Cordelia's life.

The people that Cordelia cared about had a nasty habit of doing just that-walking out of her life when she needed them the most. First, Fiona. Cordelia's mother had dropped her off on Myrtle's doorstep the day she turned eighteen, and drove off before Myrtle had even stepped foot outside. Fiona didn't care then, she didn't care now. Her actions were out of guilt, not love.

Then came Hank, the love of Cordelia's life. She had always regarded Hank as though he hung the moon and the stars in the sky, but she was blind to his ways. It was ironic, really. She was blind then, and she was blind now-but now, in her absence of sight, she could finally see. It was a clarity that Cordelia had never experienced before. It was a clarity that frightened her, a clarity that made her week in the knees.

Hank proved to be much like Fiona. Birds of a feather flocked together, but Fiona had despised Hank from the moment she first laid eyes on her. Time and time again, she had pulled Cordelia aside, begging her not to agree to marry Hank. Most times, Fiona was ballsy enough to say it in front of Hank. Fiona was a bitch, but regardless, mother knows best.

Now, she was without Myrtle-the one woman that had actually cared about Cordelia's wellbeing. The one person that wanted to see Cordelia succeed. To Fiona, Cordelia was nothing more than a pawn. A burden. Something to be passed off to the next individual, like an ugly Christmas sweater. Now, Cordelia certainly felt ugly. She couldn't see her own reflection in the mirror. Most of the time, she couldn't even say with certainty whether or not she was actually standing in front of a mirror, but the stares of the girls, Fiona included, burned her face hotter than any sulfuric acid ever had.

Cordelia was disfigured. Useless. Ugly.

She knew what the people around her were thinking, but today would be the day. Today would be the day that Cordelia would lose it, and break down crying. She didn't care who saw it, or who heard it. She was tired of fighting. Tired of living. And most of all, tired of being treated as though she couldn't fend for herself. Cordelia was raised to be a fighter. She had been fighting for her life for as long as she could remember, but none of that matter. Not a single bit of it mattered now.

Like a daily routine, Cordelia heard Fiona's pumps falling against the wooden floor, reverberating within the Academy's corridors. She turned the door and flicked on the lights, but it mattered not. Cordelia couldn't see to complain about the light on her tender eyes.

"Delia..."

Fiona's tone was hesitant, as if she feared startling her, but she continued after she was certain she had Cordelia's attention.

"We've got to get you up. The doctor ordered bed rest for a week. Do you remember that?" Fiona's head tilted to the side, trying her best to sound affectionate, and swallowing her pride.

Cordelia's head whipped to face Fiona, or so, she thought. In truth, she didn't know where she was looking. She could have been staring at the wall for all she knew.

"Now I'm blind and forgetful, huh? Woe is me," Cordelia spat, her words articulated with venom, intended to hurt Fiona's feelings. Indeed, it had proved to be successful. Cordelia thought she would have felt satisfied at hearing her mother's muffled cry, but she didn't. If anything, she only felt worse. Cordelia considered apologizing to her mother, but she didn't feel like talking anymore. She only wanted to get through her morning routine.

Eventually, Fiona came closer, realizing that, talking to her beautiful Delia would do no good. The girl was stubborn, just about as stubborn as Fiona was, if not more. Fiona grasped Cordelia's wrist and helped her to get off the bed, risking her own secrets to aid her daughter.

Fortunately, Cordelia hadn't seen anything this time. Fiona was counting her lucky stars. She knew she had secrets buried, secrets that could tear Cordelia's very soul apart. She didn't want to inflict that kind of pain on her daughter. She'd already done enough in the past. Fiona didn't toss that acid on her daughter's face, but she sure as hell felt as though she had.

Together, the two walked to Cordelia's shower. Her daughter was a private woman. Her pride was too strong to allow her mother to see her nude. When Cordelia nodded her head as a signal for Fiona to depart the room and stand just outside the door, Fiona did, but first, she reminded Cordelia that she'd be just outside should she need any help.

"Let me know if you need anything. I'll be here," Fiona spoke, closing the bathroom door behind her.

Now, as Fiona heard the water turn on and her daughter step into the shower, she cried. She cried harder than she had ever cried. She screwed up with Cordelia, and she wasn't sure what she could do to make up for it, but she would try.

Not only did she owe it to herself, but to her daughter. Her beautiful daughter. Even covered in burns and scars, Cordelia was gorgeous, in Fiona's eyes. The image of perfection.

If only Cordelia knew it.

**~oOoOoOo~**

**Let me know what you think! I really have enjoyed writing this story, and would love to continue it. Leave some suggestions for me if you'd like to see me write something else into the story!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: For a while now, I have just really lost my interest in writing. However, I'm ecstatic to tell you all that I've once again found my muse and I'm ready to jump right back into the groove. Thank you for sticking with me. I know my last chapter may have seemed a bit rushed, as I was suffering from some slight writer's block, but I hope this chapter will make up for that! Please let me know what you think about it.**

**Please note, I've taken the liberty of assuming Cordelia's age, as it hasn't been directly stated by Ryan Murphy thus far. I would guess her to be around 35. Also, if you are sensitive to the suggestion of rape, I advise that you do not read this chapter.**

**Also, I'm currently on the prowl for a beta reader. I'm able to catch some of my errors, but I'm not perfect. It would be nice to have a second set of eyes to help me out! If you're interested, feel free to PM me. I would be eternally grateful.**

**~oOoOoOo~**

_\- 1996 -_

Cordelia was dressed in a taupe gown with a white turtleneck tucked beneath, her blonde tresses splayed as straight as an arrow upon the ample material. She had been crying moments prior to arriving at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies with her mother at her side, an encouraging hand settled atop Cordelia's spine. Fiona had insisted that this was the finest of education that Cordelia would ever receive in her lifetime, but Cordelia saw through that, even at the mere age of eighteen. She had been in her mother's presence long enough to be able to recognize when Fiona was bullshitting her way through a situation, just so the outcome would emerge favorable in Fiona's behalf.

Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies was a school located in New Orleans, Louisiana. The Big Easy. It was an academy dedicated to teaching the art of witchcraft. For centuries, young witches had been able to disguise what they truly were, a masquerade that was put up in an endeavor to ensure the survival of Salem descendants, but one could never be too sure. There were always threats present, especially in this day and age. Girls who were enrolled in the Academy's courses were presented with an opportunity to learn how to defend themselves, to stay on the down low, and to become knowledgeable with their ancestors past.

In a way, Cordelia was somewhat excited to be attending a school of such promise and high praise, from what she had heard from Fiona, but she knew better. Cordelia knew that, around Fiona, it wasn't wise to get your hopes up. Fiona lived to see that your hopes and dreams came crashing down around you, and she laughed from the sidelines as it happened.

Unfortunately, Cordelia had been stuck with this woman since birth, but she was certain that the feeling was mutual. Cordelia was well aware of the fact that she was a mistake. Fiona reminded her of this often. She'd told the tale time and time again, how Cordelia wasn't meant to be conceived, but Fiona was wild in her prime, careless, with a nasty habit of believing that she was invincible, that the parties and the rowdy nights out around town would never fade. Fiona had been kind enough to tell Cordelia about the evening of her conception, how Fiona had been drunk off of her ass, her legs parted for the next man to walk in through the door. She was the Supreme. She had it all. One thing, however, that she did not have, was a form of contraceptive, and it was a mistake that would haunt her for the next eighteen years, as Fiona would often say.

Eighteen years. It was Cordelia's birthday, and her only present was her mother dropping her off at the Academy's doorstep. Fiona had her second husband waiting in the car, shouting, demanding that she hurry it along. He was loaded. He could have retired at the age of thirty and would have been set for the rest of his life, but that was before Fiona walked in. She stole every penny that he had ever made, and sucked the very soul from his body when he was no longer of use to her. Then, it was time to find husband number three. Cordelia didn't miss the man. He'd always sneak into her room at night, lift the blankets from Cordelia's body and slip his hand between her thighs, a large palm covering her mouth, making it difficult to breath, and even harder to scream.

Cordelia lived through hell in that house. It wasn't a home, there was nothing comforting about it. That house was merely a shell that separated Cordelia from the rest of the world, from safety.

One day, Cordelia had made the mistake of believing that she could confide in Fiona, and open up to her mother about what was going on during the nights. She often wondered why Fiona hadn't realized that her husband had rose from bed in the middle of the night, but she thought it best to not pin the blame on Fiona. Her mother couldn't have known, right? As soon as the accusation left Cordelia's lips, Fiona slapped her across the face, and threatened that much worse would happen to her should Cordelia ever tell such a lie again. From that point on, Cordelia was still at night. She would pretend to be asleep while her mother's husband came in. She would stifle her cries, and pray that he didn't see the tears cascading down her cheeks as she was violated, her innocence ripped away from her, all the while her mother was just a few doors down, oblivious to the abuse.

The past was the past. As much as Cordelia didn't want to be without her mother, she knew that attending this Academy was in her best interest, where she would be surrounded by people that wouldn't inflict harm upon her, people that weren't out to humiliate Cordelia.

She didn't want to leave her mother's side, but she soon realized that she had never been by her mother's side in the first place. For the majority of Cordelia's life, she had referred to her mother as Fiona, not mom. Fiona wasn't her mother. Fiona didn't have a maternal bone in her body. She was merely the person who allowed Cordelia to live with her for eighteen years, and provided halfway decent meals, though most of the time, Cordelia cooked and cleaned for herself.

She didn't want to be alone in life, but that was the only thing she really knew how to do. Cordelia was so socially awkward that it was sickening, but she prayed that people in this Academy would just mind their own business, and leave her be. She didn't want to socialize with others. She'd forgotten how to start a conversation with another individual, much less keep one continuing for an extended period of time.

"Come on, now, Delia. I've got somewhere to be with your father," Fiona murmured in a hushed tone, pushing Cordelia further. Cordelia didn't even have an opportunity to comment on her mother's choice of words before Fiona turned on her heel and headed back for the car.

 _Father?_  The thought of husband number two being Cordelia's father made her cringe, and her skin crawl. That man wasn't her father.  _That man didn't mean one god damn thing to her._

Cordelia wanted to cry. She wanted to cry, and scream at the top of her lungs for the entire world to hear, but she couldn't. She couldn't allow her control to slip through her fingers now, she needed to exercise her inner strength, and push herself out of her comfort zone. She still needed to meet the Headmistress of Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, a woman who Fiona often referred to as a ginger bitch. When Cordelia was shown to her room, and only then, would she finally cry...

_\- 2013 -_

It was funny.

Life was just one big cosmic joke, wasn't it?

The woman who had dumped Cordelia off at the Academy's doorstep without a single goodbye was now standing beside Cordelia, tending to her every need, trying to be the mother that Fiona had never been.

Much had changed since Cordelia was a young girl, still blossoming, though extremely introverted. She'd broken out of her shell, and learned to speak for herself. With the help of her Auntie Myrtle, Cordelia realized that it was time to stop allowing others to walk all over her, to abuse her. It was time to let a past that haunted and plagued her dreams each night go. It was time for forgiveness.

Unfortunately for Cordelia, or rather, Fiona, Cordelia had a tendency to hold a grudge like a champion.

Cordelia may have been capable of showing forgiveness, but she never forgot. While Cordelia was in Fiona's presence, resentment was the one emotion that fueled the fire.

If looks could kill, Fiona would have died a thousand deaths this morning alone.

Today, Fiona was too touchy feely with Cordelia, sucking her ass, acting as if she'd just been presented with the mother of the year award. Cordelia wanted to laugh. She wanted to laugh until she'd gone blue in the face, until she couldn't breathe anymore.

As much as Fiona tried, her attempts to be a mother had proved to be fruitless, just as her mother's confession that would follow was.

"...The doctors say it's terminal," Fiona whispered from her chair while Cordelia stood off to the side, obviously expecting to hear some sort of sympathy in Cordelia's voice. Fiona wanted pity, and that was one god damn thing she would never receive. In Cordelia's mind, Fiona would be waiting until hell froze over for pity.

"Do me a favor, die before Thanksgiving so none of us have to suffer through that mess of raisins and Styrofoam you call stuffing," Cordelia snarled in response, walking away with the aid of her cane so she didn't run into any furniture. She was already covered in enough bruises, physically and emotionally, that would last Cordelia two lifetimes.

Cordelia was expecting that the rebellion she was putting up against Fiona would have felt great, but if anything, it only intensified the ache within Cordelia's heart. She wanted to forgive her mother, so much that it hurt.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't forgive her mother, because she didn't have a mother, not where Fiona was concerned.

According to Cordelia, Myrtle was her mother. Myrtle was the woman that didn't allow strange men to enter Cordelia's room at night and plunge their fingers inside of her, the woman that coddled and nurtured Cordelia, the woman that wiped her tears away and held her as Cordelia's world fell apart.

_Myrtle was Cordelia's saving grace._

_Fiona could burn in hell._

**~oOoOoOo~**

**I know this story has been sort of slow-paced, but it's starting to pick up now. Y'all can expect a lot of backstories to pop up in the near future. Until then, please let me know what you think of this! Much love. ~ A**


End file.
